Scarf
by TropicanaLemonadeOnASunnyDay
Summary: Why does Russia always wear his scarf? Ame/Rus, in that order. Random cracky lemon, rated M.


Um…don't question the things that were going on in my head when I wrote this…I don't even know…I'm not even sure how I came up with this… ;A; Sorta OOC, but that's the point. Er, yeah.

Yeah, basically this is just crack, really shitty crack I wrote at 2:06 AM Eastern Time in the most gloriously freezing cold of my downstairs while my parents were asleep. I'm fricking freezing here. Yup. Don't expect much out of this.

Oh, and **моя любовь **means "my love," **нет** is "no," **Вы ублюдок **is "you bastard," **любимая **is "darling," **Прокляните это **is "damn it," and **Доброе утро** means "good morning," according to the website I used. (The rest you can figure out, I believe.) Blame the translator for my mistakes, as I'm not quite proficient in Russian yet. ._. All I can speak is Chinese and some French, but I like adding the foreign languages, da? Anyone who actually speaks Russian would be helpful. -_- Hai, it would be very helpful indeed.

Pretty good for my second time, _non_? And I'm still a virgin. Of course, my mind has probably been fucked so many times from reading this kind of stuff… o.o

**EDIT:** Alright, alright, I realized I missed parts, so I went back and fixed it a little. What do you expect from a scatterbrained kid like me? Bah, whatever. Just go on and read it.

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_~scarf~_**

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America toyed with the fringe of his scarf and frowned. "You never take it off?"

He nodded, leaning back and wrapping his arms more tightly around him. "нет. It was from Katayusha. It goes everywhere with me. Like the pipe." He furrowed his brow briefly. The pipe didn't work after he took it out of the ground, no matter what he did, but he didn't really feel the need to get rid of it. He mulled this over a bit more.

America pulled again, more insistently. "Not even when you take a shower? Not even when it's warm outside and-"

Russia chuckled. "моя любовь, it is rarely warm in my house. Even so, I am always cold."

He smiled and sand in a sing-song voice, "You're avoiding the question~"

He groaned and let his eyes slide shut. "I prefer to avoid it, but yes." They sat in quiet for a while, simply in each other's company.

The scarf slid, unwinding itself from its tight coil around his neck to sit on his shoulders. He opened his eyes. "Америка, please don't do that!" He clutched at the scarf and glared indignantly at the gleeful North American nation.

"Mm, but you don't seem very cold right now, Ivan…" He kissed him gently, thoroughly distracting him as he keened and moaned into his touch. Warm fingers tugged at his scarf again, pulling it off and stroking his neck gently.

He gasped. "Ah-Америка, please, sto-aah!" He let his head fall back, pale cheeks stained a light pink. "Америка, stop it!" The words fell with little conviction, and he let him continue, moaning unashamedly.

America raised an eyebrow and let his hand fall. "Your neck?"

Russia scowled. "'S why I wear my scarf. Now are you just going to sit there or are you going to fuck me already?" He blushed deeper but held his gaze defiantly.

America gave him a feral smirk. "Who am I to deny such a request?" He picked him up bridal-style easily and leapt up each stair, two at a time, kicking open the door and setting him on the bed. Russia leaned up to kiss him, hands propping him up, scarf forgotten at his side. They fought for dominance, but surprisingly America won.

America took this chance to grab the scarf and bind his hands behind his back before he could react. The stunned Russian aimed a kick at him in protest. "Вы ублюдок!"

"Only doing to you what you do to me, любимая!" He grinned at Russia's bright red cheeks, tearing his shirt off over his head and licking the submissive Russian's chest, pausing every once in a while to kiss him. He set his glasses on the side table and returned to his crouch over Russia.

His hands stroked his neck, then tracing lower to circle around his waist, and finally, teasingly slowly, unbuckling his pants. The belt was placed unceremoniously to the side. Russia hissed in impatience, kicking his pants to his ankles, groaning and bucking his hips upwards.

He tried to press himself closer, his thoughts murky, mustering up the concentration to say, "Fuck me now." America's smile only became more pronounced as he pulled his own pants, yanking down their boxers in one swift motion, relishing the small whimper Russia gave as his already painfully hard erection sprang up embarrassingly eagerly and was hit by a wave of cold air. "Hah… Alfred…" His normally composed, cynical air was replaced by his new expression: locks of sweaty platinum blond hair sticking to his forehead, violet eyes flashing, strangely compliant attitude, blushing cheeks, and open mouth-he kissed him again.

"Alfred!" He grit his teeth, trying to hold back his moans of longing. America smirked again and carefully inserted a finger, watching him squirm uncomfortably with something that resembled concern in his lust-hazed eyes. "Sh..." He added another.

A sharp intake of breath. Russia's eyes widened and he shifted slowly back and forth."Just...do it already, dammit."

"I want to hear you." He warned, before lifting his hips and carefully thrusting in.

Russia, thoroughly unused to this position, panted heavily, trying not to move. The pain was not enough to seriously upset him, but it felt strange. America leaned close and whispered gutturally in his ear, "I suppose it's your first time ever bottoming?" He could only nod. America groaned and suppressed the urge to move. "Aah, it's as if you were a virgin." Russia could only glare at him and clench his fists.

America let his hand drift upwards and slowly begin to draw circles on his obvious arousal, running rough and calloused fingers up and down the shaft. He groaned, back arching into his touch. "You…can move now," he gasped, rocking his hips back and forth to meet his lover's pace.

He felt an overwhelming urge to rip his hands free, so he could touch him, but remembered it was his scarf. "Прокляните это!" He cried out, as America thrust in deeper, making him see stars. He hooked his legs around his waist and pulled himself closer, crying out random curses in Russian, interspersed with America's human name.

The overwhelming tension, the friction-he was almost glad his scarf was out of his reach. Their warm skin slapped against each other as they moved back and forth in synchronization. America rubbed his hand faster, up and down, thumb brushing the tip, and other hand reaching up to curl around his neck. He screamed out once more, feeling hot liquid spurt out between their stomachs, clenching his muscles but at the same time feeling utterly relaxed.

America kissed him deeply, spilling his violent seed. As he pulled out, thudding softly next to him, he could feel the warm fluid trickling between his thighs. He closed his eyes, letting America remove his scarf and put it on the bedside table, finally hugging him tightly to his chest.

America looked up at him with sleepy eyes. "Your neck, then?"

He yawned. "Don't push it." He let his eyelids fall, his last conscious thought being the feeling of America's warmth, his presence a soft warm weight on his chest, and the blankets being pulled over him.

**!_!_!_!_!_!_!**

He woke up still feeling lethargic, a dull ache filling his body, a post-coital stupor still omnipresent in his thoughts. America was next to him, and he felt sort of whole. A glowing happiness settled in him, and he smiled against America's neck. He whispered softly, "Доброе утро, любимая." America sleepily replied, "Доброе утро к Вам также. Вы имели хороший сон? Это были четырнадцать часов."

Russia looked at him confusedly. He rolled his eyes. "I just said good morning to you too, and I asked if you had a nice, fourteen hours long sleep. Is it that hard to understand?"

"нет, нет. It's just strange to hear you speak in my mother tongue." He smiled and nuzzled his cheek, content to lie in bed.

America picked up the scarf and wrapped it around his lover's neck. "Я люблю Вас."

_I love you too,_ he murmured sleepily. _Я люблю Вас._

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**WOO! First actually decent lemon I'm somewhat proud of!

My favorite line has to be, _"…as his already painfully hard erection sprang up embarrassingly eagerly and was hit by a wave of cold air."_ OuO Teh lulz, teh lulz.

Alright, you guys know what comes next. Drop me a line and tell me how horrible it is, help me improve my skills, et cetera. And now I will go to sleep, and then go to school in three hours. Wish me luck!


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